Chapter 1: Gala Doesn't Disappoint... Most of the time.
My dress looks amazing. And my make-up is perfect.
Until a see them.
Her fingers intertwined into his. His mouth pressed into hers.
My mascara almost immediately begins to run. I begin to wish that I hadn't even come. I turn on my heels and shove my way through the tool and taffita on everyone's beautiful outfits.
I open the door to the bathroom, and am thankful to see only my three best friends are there. I run to them and they can immediately tell that somethings wrong. One by one they come to me and cacoon me inside of their arms. I let it all out in this safe place.
I cry on their shoulders for no more than ten minutes, and then to one of the sink mirrors to rescue whatever I can of my makeup. I salvage a bit of it, and reapply the rest. my runny mascara is barely noticeable.
I put all of my makeup back into the silver clutch I am carrying. I suck up the rest of my tears. I cannot let Tristin see me like this.
I push through the double doors, and, with my besties behind me, march right past Tristin and Alli. I walk proud with my head held high, and my butt out. I won't let their crappy relationship ruin my night.
I find the rest of our clique at the farthest corner of the dance floor, dancing to themselves and being shy. I've got to fix this, I think. I grab all of the rest of my group by their hands and drag them closer to the middle of the floor. I have to push many people out of the way, but we make it through. The DJ starts to play a song that altrnates between fast and slow. I start to dance and as I begin to get more and more comfortable, I dance better... and looser. As I do this, people begin to watch me.
Even a couple of people that know me fairly well, or so i think, start saying things like "Damn, Laney!" and "You can dance!" I just smile and shrug off the bad comments too. I mean, haters only hate because they jealous right?
My friends start to have more fun like I am, and by the next song we were all ready to dance some more.
But we can't dance like that anymore. Because they are now playing the song "Crazy Girl" by The Eli Young Band. My friends and I back away from all of the couples dancing with each other. A couple of guys come over and take my friends by the hand. They don't so much as look back at me or give me a second thought. But then, as I am about to sit down in one of the loser chairs, someone's hand grabs mine.
At first, in the strobe lights, I think it's Tristin. But as the stranger pulls me farther towards the edge of the dance floor, I realize that it's not him, but that it's Daxton. A boy in my third period Spanish class. I don't know him that well anymore. We used to be really good friends when we were little kids, but we haven't really spent that much time together, lately. I'm not sure I'd consider liking or dating him. I like the outcasted guys. Those guys that are musicians instead of baseball-basketball-football guys. The ones that, don't only care about themselves and that... that... that always seem to have girlfriends. Dax isn't that type of guy, but he's sorta cute.
I drag my mind back to the present and realize that Dax is looking at me intently, waiting for me to answer a question. "I'm sorry," I say. "What did you say?"
Dax rolls his eyes at me and chuckles under his breath. "I said," he smiles at me and i actually think I could like him... just a little. "Will you dance with me, please?"
That's when I realize I'm just standing there with my hand even on his shoulder just, with my right hand in his left. I smile up at him, and even with my two-inch heels on, I barely reach his shoulders. "Sorry, I don't really know how to..." I say it shyly and drop my head to the ground, embarassed.
